Broken Routine
by Argent
Summary: Never break the routine


Title:Broken routine Author: Argentlife (Lisa) Email: argentlife at yahoo dot com  
  
Summary: They never break the routine.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine - but once again there's always that bingo evening next week so who knows. Archive: WRFA, anywhere else please ask.  
It's the same every time he returns.  
  
No one knows, but then again she thinks that's the beauty of it. It makes what they do so much easier. No anger, no hurt, no questions.  
  
Only pure and simple sex.  
  
Marie knows why she waits for him in the nights. Why she opens the door every time he knocks, ever so softly.  
  
He can touch her. No one else can.  
  
She knows that Kitty would take that fact and twist it into something that isn't real. That she and Logan are made for each other. That they are soul mates. When she thinks about it she just laughs. Because she learned the truth a long time ago.  
  
Theirs isn't love.  
  
Of course she likes him. Cares about him. But nothing more. Nothing all consuming that would demand more from them that they are both willing to give.  
  
Both her and Logan are loners. Traveling through life alone, touching soules from time to time, never staying to long. He knows it. She - she has resigned to the fact of life.  
  
He returned today. Came back from whatever it is that he does when he's away. So she waits. Lies in her bed, twirling a strand of her hair between her index finger and thumb.  
  
A quick check at her clock and she knows he's doing his routine now. Annoying almost everyone while doing it.  
  
He will be knocking in five minutes.  
  
It's the same every time. She lies awake, waiting for the gentle touch of soles against the floor. The hesitant second before his hand fall on the door.  
  
She knows neither of them really remembers how it started. All she can remember is that he brushed against her, without pain. So they had started exploring. Naturally they ended in bed. It was a two plus two equals four situation.  
  
The next evening he returned.  
  
Now it has been three years, on and off. Whenever he's back. It suits her. There's no demands, no broken trust.  
  
There's only one minute until playtime.  
  
She stands up, gets ready to open the door. Checks herself over in the mirror one final time. She looks good. Spring green nightgown against pale skin.  
  
Its now she realizes that something is missing. That there is no footstep in the hall. She waits another minute but they never comes.  
  
Perhaps he's been delayed. One of the others wanting to talk to him perhaps.  
  
Marie waits another hour. Sits on her bed. Stares at the clock on her bedside table until she thinks that it will break from sheer willpower.  
  
Instead it's red digits screams at her. Wills her to do something because he isn't coming. He isn't coming.  
  
Then she gets angry, feel it slowly boiling inside her. She knows he doesn't care but he could have let her know. She could have done something else.  
  
So Marie puts on her robe. Walks the halls until she stands outside his door, for a moment intimidated by the dark wood and she wonders if this is how he feels standing outside hers.  
  
Then she opens the door.  
  
Ignores the slight crack as it reveals more of his room. Stops when she hears the muffled sound of water running.  
  
He is in the shower. So she walks there. Halfway into the room she stops. Frozen in time. On his bed, rumpled sheets lays another woman. Marie turns, walks out. Closes the door softly. Thanks the Lord that the other woman was asleep.  
  
Then she walks back to her room.  
  
The red digits still changes every second. She goes to the bathroom and she throws up. Dinner, lunch, snack. It all comes up. Later when she watches herself in the mirror, after she has rinsed her face, she sees the tears that are beginning to form.  
  
So she goes to bed.  
  
Cries softly. Doesn't know why. The tears runs down on her pillow. The wetness against her skin when she moves her head just a little.  
  
The hours changes. The clock the only thing that tells her that the night has given away to morning.  
  
She cries.  
  
The door opens. She doesn't realize until warm strong arms draw her near, warm body drawing her body next to his.  
  
Then she tries to break free. Struggles against the stronger arms. Until he twist her on her back, holding her naked skin in his hands.  
  
"Storm needed to talk."  
  
She nods and he kisses her. Hard and soft at the same time. The routine starts again.  
  
She doesn't want it to end. 


End file.
